The Darkness
by Valentine97
Summary: Riddick has decided to rejoin the human race, but what if the human race doesn't want him back? What lengths will he go to to connect with another person?
1. chapter One - Two

THE DARKNESS  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
She crawled in through the window. She was an expert thief and burglar and had done this a million times before. No lights on, jimmy the window, crawl in, take the stuff you find, crawl back out. Not a problem. She'd watched this apartment for weeks and while the main rooms had lights turning on and off all the time, this room was always dark. So, she figured she'd go in, it might be a storage room, or a guest bedroom, and see what she could find. It wasn't that she liked being a thief or that she enjoyed taking other people's things, but it was easy money and this way she could feed herself a few more days. Without this she'd have had to turn to hooking or worse. She justified it that she wasn't selling drugs or her body, she was just taking he few small items that people had left lying around.  
  
She crawled in the window and set her feet down in the dark room. She reached behind her to get a flashlight, and never heard or saw him coming. He was a lot taller than she was, he probably had six inches on her at least, and exceptionally strong. He grabbed her arms, slamming her back against the wall next to the window. She saw stars for a moment and when she refocused her eyes he was right in her face. Darker skin, bald, glowing eyes, giving her the most menacing look she'd ever encountered.  
  
"Shit." She muttered under her breath. He wasn't amused and slammed her against the wall again. He was so strong and she hadn't at all prepared herself for hostility. Dark room means no one is in there! Her head was spinning from the impact and she clawed at his arms, trying to get him to let up, even if only a bit, so she could collect her thoughts and defend herself. He wasn't about to let that happen. He used one hand to grab both of her arms and hold them above her head.  
  
He pulled a makeshift knife out, from where she didn't notice because she couldn't take her eyes off of his. But she saw the blade and panic took over her whole body. He put it to her chest and leaned into her. "Please don't kill me." She begged timidly.  
  
He didn't respond at all, but continued holding her against the wall, and the knife to her chest. He moved his eyes over her whole body, taking every inch of her in. He studied her black cotton pants and black long sleeved fitted tee. He raked over her breasts and thighs, licking his lips sadistically. He touched the knife to her shoulder length hair, that she had tied back, and took in every detail of her face. He cut the strap holding her bag on her back, letting it fall to the floor before holding her against the wall again. He smelled her, closing his eyes, trying to place the scent. When he couldn't he looked into her eyes again. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice a low, intimidating, rumble from within his chest.  
  
Don't panic! Get him talking and then think of a way out of this! "Look, just let me go. Please." She implored. Oh God he was going to kill her!  
  
Instead, he leaned towards her face, and licked her cheek. She was absolutely repulsed. "Don't! Please!" She pleaded louder.  
  
He threw her onto the large bed behind them, climbing on top of her, holding the knife to her throat. She couldn't think of what to do to help herself. She tried to fight back but he was so fucking strong she couldn't move! She was certain he'd kill her, or rape her, and either way she'd rather go out fighting. So, she started to cry for help as loud as she could manage. He slapped her across the face, but she didn't stop screaming.  
  
Then he put his hands around her throat, instantly cutting off her oxygen supply, and the screams. Tears ran down her face as she tried to hit his hands and arms, make him let go. She heard the door open and prayed it was help.  
  
"Riddick, what the hell are you doing?" a girl screamed.  
  
"Get out Jack. This is no concern of yours." The man, named Riddick, replied in a stern monotone.  
  
"You're going to kill her!" The girl named Jack yelled, trying to remove his hands from her throat.  
  
"She broke in." Riddick argued. His grip wasn't getting any more relaxed. The woman was sure these were her last few minutes and she prayed to God to save her, swearing she'd never rob again.  
  
"You can't kill her." Jack stated, trying to be calm. Riddick looked to the girl, Jack, and swore under his breath. It was the last thing the woman heard before blackness came to her.  
  
  
  
1 CHAPTER 2  
  
She came to hours later. The first thought that went through her head was, "Thank God. I'm alive." The second was, "Where am I?" Her body ached from the struggle with that dark man earlier. Riddick. The girl, Jack, she'd called him Riddick. She let her mind move over her body, appreciating that her clothing had been removed, but not her undergarments. She secretly thanked God she'd worn a tight fitting tank with a built in bra, rather than just her bra. Otherwise she'd be here more naked than she was now. Still, in this room, in only her tank and underwear, with no blanket, she was freezing cold.  
  
She tried to swallow, and realized how badly her throat hurt. She remembered the feel of his hands around her neck, choking the life out of her, and was grateful that that pain was all she'd suffered. She tried to move her hands, but discovered they were tied together in front of her with what felt like a soft rope. She opened her eyes and could barely make out the line of the rope in that darkness. She saw it leading from her expertly joined hands to where it was attached to the headboard of the bed she was lying on. She realized she was in the same room she'd broken into, tied to the bed that she'd been thrown onto by that man, where he'd tried to kill her….but hadn't. Clearly he could have if he'd wanted to. So, why spare her?  
  
Damn, she was so cold. Stay focused! She wasn't alone. He was lying next to her in the bed, sleeping. Don't wake him!  
  
She looked around the room cautiously, taking in whatever details she could. The room was rather large, larger than she'd realized when she broke in. There was this large bed, large enough for the both of them to be lying there together but not touching. It had a headboard and footboard. It was situated against the wall, in the corner of the room. To the right, past where he was sleeping, there was the door the girl had appeared from, probably leading to the rest of the apartment. That door was closed. To the left, next to her, was that wall. At the foot of the bed was the window she'd come in through. She recalled the bed having been in the center of the room, with room to walk on either side, and then decided he'd moved it into the corner so she'd be closed in where she lay. There was a dresser against the wall, facing the bed. There was another door, partially open, in the corner opposite her and the window, on the same wall as the door to the apartment. Maybe a bathroom? And then, on that wall, was a long closet.  
  
She rested her head again. What to do? How to get out of this? Her hands had a little give, but not enough for her to escape the binds. Shit! This was the wrong apartment to have broken into. Who was this guy anyhow?  
  
She checked him out as he slept. Riddick? Why did that name sound so familiar? She'd already been able to learn a lot about him based on his conduct earlier. He was strong, much stronger than she was. Muscular and powerful. He was skilled in weapons and fighting. His eyes glowed….shined maybe? That would mean he'd been in Slam, since the practice had developed there, and only convicts seemed to have bothered to undergo the painful procedure. Having been in Slam meant he was a really bad guy, murderer, rapist, terrorist. And he was here, which meant he'd escaped. They don't let you out of Slam. That's why she knew the name. Riddick, escaped murderer. Duh?! They'd been looking for him about a year ago, maybe more than that, big reward for his capture. Didn't he die? Some sort of crash. Yeah. Well, he obviously hadn't died in the crash.  
  
Excellent pick for an apartment! Of all the shit holes on this rock, she picked the one with the psycho killer at home. Note to self: Find a real job.  
  
She looked at him and noticed a glint from his waistband. His shiv, the one he'd held to her earlier. Take the risk! Grab it! Stab his ass to death! Cut yourself free! Yeah, like it's be that easy. Something is going to go wrong here. Seems way to easy. But, what else was there to do? She couldn't climb over him, he'd wake up. Even if she could she had to first free herself from her restraints, which wasn't going to be easy. So, go for it! At the very least she might get it and get the upper hand and force him to free her.  
  
Gradually she moved her bound hands through the darkness, making her way towards the steel she could see, watching him for movement or awareness. Then, as she placed her hands gingerly on the blade, thinking she might be home free, his powerful hand grabbed hers and twisted it until she cried out. She tried to fight back but again was no match for his strength. In a split second he'd grabbed the blade himself, and as he held it to her chest again he undid the rope tying her to the bed.  
  
Without a word he picked her up, carrying her over one shoulder though the door in the room, which was a bathroom. He turned on the water and threw her into the tub. She jumped up, feeling the ice cold water spray onto her. She tried to get away but he grabbed her by the hair and held her under the shower. She cried out to him to let her go but he ignored her protests, holding her under the water until she was drenched and shivering with cold. Then he shut the water off and dragged her by her hands into the bedroom again. He threw her on the hard wood floor at the foot of the bed, and tied her hands to the footboard.  
  
She sat there shivering. And you thought you were cold before! Now you're brilliant plan has gotten you cold and wet, and at the mercy of this psychopath. Now you're going to die of pneumonia. Another excellent plan! It took a second before she took her mind away from the fact that she was freezing to death and recognized that he was crouched down in front of her, looking into her face. It crossed her mind that the bare clothing she had on was a light fabric, which now surely clung to her every curve and dimension, and that the light coloring of the fabric meant he could now see through it, giving him quite an eyeful. She pushed the thought out of her head as minor in compared to her present situation. She stared back at him, not wanting to let him see her weak like this. He knew what she was trying to do, trying to be brave and strong, and he smiled at her. His mockery of her situation just made her more mad and more determined to not freeze to death there on that floor.  
  
"My fault I guess. I didn't tell you the rules." He stated. "So, here they are. Number one, do not try to escape. That includes trying to cry or signal for help. Number two, do not try to harm me or Jack, if she happens to come near you. Number three, do not speak to Jack ever, even if she speaks to you. If you violate any of these three rules then you will force me to hurt you. Number four, if you want anything at all, food, water, anything, ask me nicely and I will give it to you. If you don't ask then you will go without. Number five, ask me whatever questions you want but don't expect an answer. Number six, if I ask you a question then answer me, or you will go without something you need or want. Nod if you understand me."  
  
She nodded. Like hell she was going to just be nice and docile. There was no way she was going to play this game, whatever it was.  
  
"If you obey these rules then we'll be fine together. You'll eat and stay warm and I won't have to hurt you. Otherwise you're stay here will be very unpleasant." He continued.  
  
"What do you want with me?" she asked him.  
  
He didn't answer her. "Now, because you were either trying to escape or trying to hurt me, or both, you get to sleep on this floor, and freeze. Learn the lesson now because I do not have the patience to do this every night."  
  
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked again.  
  
Again he ignored her. "Get some sleep."  
  
"Look if you're going to rape me or kill me then just fucking get it over with. Whatever this is isn't going to work." She told him, trying to sound strong and assertive, but knowing she probably came across as very frightened, which she definitely was.  
  
He chuckled at her, mocking her again. She felt the bed shift as he laid down again. She continued speaking to him but he ignored her. And she realized the more she spoke the more her throat hurt her. She quieted down and decided to save her strength to fight the cold, and stay alive.  
  
Then she heard him murmur, "Strong survival instinct."  
  
2 CHAPTER 3 


	2. Chapter three

1 CHAPTER 3  
  
She tried to stay awake as long as she could, not wanting the hypothermia to get the better of her. She kept running everything he'd said through her head, trying to make sense of her situation. She had come to two conclusions. One, he wasn't going to kill her. If he wanted to do that he would have already. Two, he probably wasn't going to rape her, but she couldn't be positive of this one. He could be a total fucking asshole who just wanted to play with her first. But, nothing she'd ever read about him indicated that he was a rapist, and, well, as she'd decided before, if he'd wanted to rape her then he would have already. Other than that she couldn't figure him out. What was his motivation here? Why keep her shackled to the bed half naked? Why establish rules? Why? He obviously wanted all the control here. Maybe he was hoping to break her completely. The fact that rules existed meant he intended to keep her there for a while probably. The possibilities floated through her head and her terror returned. She was determined to get away. She was determined not to give in to him. And she needed to keep calm and not let her fear overtake her.  
  
These thoughts floated through her head as she slowly feel asleep. She awoke maybe a few hours later. The shade wa drawn on the window keeping the light out, and no clock was in the room so she couldn't sure what time it was. She didn't know how long she'd been there. She was so cold she was in pain. She could see her skin was pale, and she imagined her lips were blue as well. Her hands and feet hurt, and were approaching being numb, which she knew wasn't good. Her wet hair had dried in clumps, frozen to her head. She wasn't sure what had woken her up but then she heard talking in the next room. She heard his low voice. She strained to listen and heard a girl's voice, probably the one from the night before. She considered calling for help, but then thought better of it. He'd hurt her again, she was sure of that. And, if that girl had wanted to help her she would have done so already. So, she chose to try to listen and maybe figure out what was going on.  
  
"So, you're just going to keep her here?" Jack asked.  
  
"I told you not to ask questions about her." He replied.  
  
"You can't do this. You were going to kill her, and now you're keeping her here as your prisoner. This is insane!" She argued. The woman smiled knowing she wasn't the only one who saw reason here.  
  
"Go stay with Imam for a while and don't come around. This is none of your concern and it'll be better if you don't even know what's happening." He told her.  
  
"It is my concern. You're my concern. You changed, remember? This is nuts."  
  
"Maybe I didn't change as much as you thought."  
  
"Yes you did! You were doing great. You had a job and were trying. What happened?"  
  
"Jack, you don't understand me at all, nor do you understand what I wanted. Go to Imam's and leave me alone."  
  
"No, explain things to me."  
  
"Jack, I've been trying to talk to you about all this forever and you don't get it at all. Neither does Imam."  
  
"Then explain it to me again."  
  
"No. I'm taking another approach now, doing this my way."  
  
"With this woman?"  
  
"Yeah. This is the last chance."  
  
"I'm not going to give up on you."  
  
"Fine, but keep your hopes at Imam's." he stated finally, and the woman heard a door open, and, after a few minutes, close. Then he came into the bedroom where she was.  
  
Her body tensed immediately at his presence. He didn't seem to notice. "Awake?" he asked and without waiting for an answer he undid the ropes tying her to the bed. He pulled her up to her feet roughly. She was only able to stand for a minute and then her numb feet gave out under her. She caught her as she feel and carried her to the bed, tying her to the headboard again. She was shivering. He brought her a heavy blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then he started rubbing her arms and shoulders, getting the blood flowing again, warming her up. She moved to get away from his touch, but he grabbed her, held her still, and then started warming her again. "You need to warm up or you'll die." He informed her gruffly. "So as much as you don't want to be touched by me you'd better get used to it. You need me right now. You'd better get used to me touching you in general because I'm not letting you get away whenever I reach for you. Eventually you'll enjoy my touches and even reach for me in return."  
  
Her teeth her chattering but the warmth started to return to her arms and legs. "Having you touch me wasn't on the list of rules last night." She snapped at him. She knew she was grasping at straws but she was going to do anything she could to maintain her energy.  
  
He chuckled at her. She was getting used to him laughing in response to her. "Well, I get to amend the rules as I see fit, and one of the unspoken rules is you have to do what I tell you." He replied, continuing massaging her. She took the opportunity to really get a look at him. The light from the other room was streaming in through the open door. He was wearing goggles over his eyes. Under different circumstances she'd be happy to be in his bed and have his hands on her. He was a beautiful specimen of a man, but since she knew better she decided her earlier label of psychopath was the one that worked.  
  
"I should warn you I do not take orders and am not going to just be submissive here." She told him flatly, pulling the blanket closer around her, as best as she cold with her hands tied as they were.  
  
"I think I've proven that I can win this battle if you want to fight it." He reminded her. He looked her over, letting his eyes fall where they may. "I'm going to go out and buy you some things today, things you might need or want, but for now is there anything you need?"  
  
It occurred to her that she needed some water desperately and as much as it pained her to ask him for anything she didn't want to die of dehydration but that she had the hypothermia under control. "Water." She replied quietly.  
  
"Ask nicely." He said.  
  
She closed her eyes and swallowed her pride again. "Can I have some water please?" she felt him caress her cheek with his hand, and she pulled away. He laughed at her again but got up to get her the water.  
  
He came back into the room and handed it to her. She spilt some on her legs as she tried to manage it with her tied hands. She drank it all down, grateful for the immediate cleansing feeling as she felt it go down her throat all the way to her stomach. Never had anything tasted so good to her. She finished the water and handed him back the glass. He took it and set it beside the bed.  
  
Then he reached toward her leg, wiping some of the water away, putting his now wet fingers to his mouth. She was pretty certain she was going to throw up on him right then but managed to hold down the bile as it rose. But then, he leaned over and licked her leg where the rest of the water had dropped. He paused for a moment, kissed her thigh and then got back up. As soon as he was eye level with her she spit in his face. She knew it was a bad plan but she'd warned him she wasn't going to submit, no matter what. His previously relaxed expression changed to one of rage. He slapped her hard across the face and then pulled his shiv out of his waistband again. He ripped the blanket off her and grabbed her arm. Then, very precisely, he cut her upper arm, near her shoulder. Not deep, but long and straight, enough to make her bleed and cry out. He released her arm and grabbed her face in his hand, pulling her close to him.  
  
"I warned you what would happen." He yelled at her. "I get to touch you whenever I want to and you fucking deal with it bitch."  
  
"Go to hell!" she snapped back. "I told you I wouldn't give in."  
  
"Well you'd better learn to pretty damn quick." He said back.  
  
"I'm not going to just let you rape me." She hollered.  
  
"I'm no rapist." He replied, and then pushed her back onto the bed. Then he got up and left. She heard the door shut behind him as he left the apartment.  
  
She lay in the bed, curled up under the blanket, crying. She didn't know what to do to help herself. He was stronger than she was, and didn't mind hurting her. She had no doubt that she could push him far enough that he'd kill her. Why was he keeping her here? What did he want? He didn't want to kill her and apparently wasn't going to rape her. Did he honestly believe she'd come to want him? She felt completely helpless and frustrated. So, she lay there and sobbed and sobbed, hoping to find an answer in her tears.  
  
2 


	3. Chapter Four

1 CHAPTER 4  
  
She cried herself out and slept a bit. When she woke up she was still alone, on that bed. Her bleeding had stopped but her arm hurt, so did her face. She was worried about looking into a mirror. She knew her throat was probably bruised, as well as her face, and now her arm was cut. She was in bad enough shape without having to deal with the reality of the situation by seeing the scars of the past…how long had she been here anyhow? Without the light from the sun she couldn't even ascertain if it was night or day. He'd even taken time away from her. Fuck him. She didn't deserve this. She wasn't a bad person, other than the stealing. She wondered if her friends, and her sometimes boyfriend, might come looking for her, but dismissed that thought. She was independent, a loner, and had made her point to them before to keep out of her private affairs and leave her alone. They'd think she'd just gone off somewhere and would be in touch eventually. It might be six months before they honestly worried about where she was. The boyfriend might question things, but even he would know better than to come looking for her and invade her space. Her independence and identity were so important to her and they all knew it. She'd trained them all well. She wanted to kick herself for her independence, but then decided Riddick would be coming back and was sure to hurt her enough on his own. She didn't need to help him out.  
  
There was little to do in that bed but think and worry and cry and sleep. She couldn't move, there was no where she could get to. Even if she had the strength to cry for help no one would come to her aid, not in this neighborhood. And if someone did Riddick would probably kill them both for their effort. Didn't seem worth it right then.  
  
What did he want? Her cooperation. Her attention. Control over her entire being. Well, he'd hurt her if she didn't cooperate and while she wasn't going to give in she decided maybe she could try to avoid being smacked around and cut up, at least for a day or two, until she got her strength back. He had her attention and there was nothing she could do about that. She was terrified of him and worried about all the things he was capable of doing to her. More or less he had all the control. He could push her around, drag her around and force her to do a lot of what he wanted. She needed to make a stand though and take something from him. How about her voice? Don't speak to him, or answer his questions at all. It didn't seem like much but she figured it was something at least and until she could come up with something more substantial that didn't result in blood and pain, this would have to do.  
  
She'd just made her decision when she heard him return. She sat up in the bed, pulling the blanket tightly around her, huddling in the corner of the bed. He came in with a few bags, and put them in the closet. He sifted through one and emerged with some first aid supplies. "Let's clean that arm." He said, coming to the bed, and pulling the blanket away from her. He noticed the blood on the blanket and threw it on the floor. "Have to clean that." He said out loud, and moved towards her. Her first instinct was to pull away and then he remembered she had no where to go so she turned her injured arm toward him instead. He cleaned off the cut, and then placed a bandage over it. "You know, you are such a beautiful woman. Really amazing. Everything about your body is pure perfection. Why do you have to go and force my hand like that? Make me hurt you and damage this body?"  
  
She refused to answer him, refused to look him in the face too. Was she supposed to be flattered? Fine, thanks for the compliment, let me go.  
  
"Not talking to me now?" He asked, with a sly smile. "I admire your spirit. That's why I chose you." He waited for a response of some kind. "You'll talk to me when you get hungry enough." He told her. He turned and undid the rope from the bed. "Go ahead and use the bathroom if you'd like. I'll give you a few minutes."  
  
She tentatively moved off the bed, past him and made her way to the bathroom. "Leave the door open." He called after her. She flipped the switch for the lights, and then had to shield her eyes from the brightness. Again she wondered how long she'd been there. She avoided the mirror for the time being and used the toilet first. Then she stood and checked out her reflection. It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. Her throat had only mild discoloration in some places. Her face too had a small bruise on the left side. He was right handed, she remarked in her head. Her hair was knotted and her arm hurt like hell, but otherwise she looked better than she'd expected. Her eyes were the only things that betrayed her time here. They looked dark and desperate. Nothing she could help.  
  
She leaned over the sink and ran her hands under the water. She splashed some on her face, loving the feel of the coolness. The she cupped her hands and drank some handfuls. She wondered if he'd anticipated her doing that to avoid asking him for water and she figured it didn't matter. When she'd drunk enough she shut the water off and went back into the dark bedroom. He was sitting on the bed, resting against the headboard, waiting for her.  
  
She walked to the bed, and stood there. "Climb on." He said, and she did as she was told. She allowed him to retie her to the headboard. He had gotten her another blanket and he wrapped it around dher so she'd be warm.  
  
Then he pulled a comb out from under the pillow next to him and handed it to her. "Thought you might like this." He told her and handed it to her.  
  
She accepted it and started to use it to get the knots out. He sat and watched her comb her hair. She was aware of his gaze but she ignored him and concentrated on her hair. When she was done he took it out of her hands and set it on the table beside he bed. Then he ran his hands through her hair. She was grateful for the comb. She felt a little more like herself now. But she hated that she had him to thank for that.  
  
He caressed her face softly, and ran his fingers down her neck and arm. His touch repulsed her so much, but she knew she couldn't do anything to stop him from touching her. Any protest she made would just bring harsher touching. "Tell me your name." He requested. She didn't answer or acknowledge him. "Come on." He continued. "It's just your name. I need to know what to call you." She continued ignoring him. He chuckled a little. "That's okay. Don't tell me. I'll name you myself then." He told her, and then he leaned to her, kissed her cheek and her arm where he'd cut her and pulled away.  
  
"Lie down and get some sleep." He ordered and then he lay down himself, closing his eyes.  
  
She sat there for a minute thinking. What was she, his pet? Come, sit, walk, speak. And now he was going to name her? Like she belonged to him! She belonged to him. What could she do?  
  
Eventually she lay down and closed her eyes. He owned her.  
  
2 


End file.
